


Off Hours

by eyemeohmy



Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fantasizing, M/M, Sexuality, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-24
Updated: 2012-11-24
Packaged: 2017-11-19 10:12:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, one day, Ambulon decides to tell Pharma he has a crush on him, and Pharma then proceeds to fondle him all over his desk. True story!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off Hours

**Author's Note:**

> MARVEL AS I CONQUER THE AMBULON TAG.

"There's something I've been meaning to get off my chest."

Pharma's fingers stopped sifting through datapads. He looked up, then turned from the cabinet to face Ambulon. The clinic's ward manager stood awkwardly in his spot across the office, nervously clutching a box of supplies. They stared for a whole ten seconds of awkward silence before Pharma said, bluntly, "Speak then."

Ambulon cleared his vocalizer. "Right, sorry," he mumbled. Pharma noticed he was sort of crouching, his knees almost buckling. Come now, the weight of those supplies couldn't be _that_ heavy. Still, he remained quiet. "It's just... um." Ambulon glanced aside, optics narrowing.

Pharma sighed. "You're acting like a protoform," he said, "and I'd rather you not waste my time with mumbling and fidgeting."

The yellow-eyed mech almost looked offended. "I'm not..." He went quiet. Sounded way too defensive. Only proved Pharma's point; to which the doctor knew, and was smiling ever so slightly. Ambulon grumbled and stood straight, the supplies shifting in the metal box. He looked Pharma square in the optics and said, firmly, "I... have grown to admire you considerably."

That was... Well, anticlimactic. Pharma cocked an optic ridge. "... Thank you, I suppose," he said a moment later, verbally shrugging. Little confusing, but whatever. He supposed Ambulon said his piece and went to turn back to his filing--

"No, I don't think... you quite understand."

Pharma glanced back at him.

Ambulon glared into the box, almost intense enough to burn a hole through it. "I... When I say 'admire,' I mean..." God, he really _was_ acting like a child. Instead of wasting both their time with all his stuttering and uneasiness, Ambulon decided - no. Not worth the embarrassment. Not worth jeopardizing their already jilted relationship. "Nevermind," he said, "it's nothing." With that, he cycled a gulp of air and went to leave. Walking swiftly, head bowed; the walk of shame.

Suddenly, one spoken word froze him in place, inches from the door.

"Wait."

Ambulon's spark skipped a pulse. He swallowed. Refused to look up.

"I did not excuse you, did I?"

A flare of heat replaced his fear, and Ambulon turned to regard Pharma - still staring across the room - with a look of irritation. "I'm not on duty," he said, "you--"

"But I am still your boss," Pharma interjected, and finally turned his head to face Ambulon. Their optics locked, and Ambulon's spark did another small twist at the very hint of mischief glimmering in the corners of Pharma's blue eyes. "At least finish what you were saying."

"I did," Ambulon insisted, "there was nothing left to say."

Pharma smirked. Ambulon twitched again. "I beg to differ."

Ambulon shook his head. "No, it's nothing," he said, then sighed, frustrated. He shook his head again and stepped aside, Pharma drawing his hand back from the box. "Let's... just pretend nothing happened."

"No."

The yellow-eyed mech flinched as Pharma suddenly slipped between him and the door. He stood a few feet taller, towering over Ambulon, wing span nearly the length of the smaller Autobot's body. 

Ambulon stepped back, uncomfortable.

"I'd rather you finish," the doctor said, and moved a step forward, closing more space between him and his colleague. "You've got my attention now," Pharma continued, arms behind his back, looking like a devil in a business suit made of steel, "and as you know, that is not an easy feat."

For every step back Ambulon took, Pharma took one forward. "Sorry, then, but I'd be wasting more of your time," the ward manager mumbled, stepped back. This time, Pharma took _two_ steps, and the tall mech's chest pushed against the box of supplies. Ambulon nearly choked at the pressure against his own chest, hesitantly scrambling--

"Watch your step," Pharma said, smoothly, just as Ambulon suddenly crashed against the desk. The box of supplies hit the ground, and something smashed inside.

Ambulon winced as the fall took out a strip of fresh paint on the back of his leg. He then realized his position, and whose desk this was, and quickly sat up. Hands slipping in datapads, knocking them to the ground; he grabbed a wall mounted reading lamp for support, but only snapped it off. Oh, God, and he was too afraid to look at Pharma. Knew there was murderous rage boiling in those optics by now. Ambulon finally sat up, but before he could climb down--

Pharma's heavy hands pushed against the desk on each side of Ambulon's hips. The smaller 'bot went stiff, immobile, as Pharma suddenly bent over him. His shadow all consuming, casting a bright, ominous glow from those blue optics. Ambulon's own flushed a bright yellow, and his spark hiccuped at the close proximity of his boss's chassis, the way his energy rippled and met his own. "Calm down," Pharma said, calmly, still smiling. His eyes went lidded, and Ambulon swallowed. "You've been injured. Don't want to cause anymore strain, do we?"

Ambulon opened his mouth to protest, but then Pharma's fingers brushed beneath his leg, feeling the strip of exposed purple paint. Then, Pharma was pushing his leg up, and it almost - it almost appeared as if he was going to put it on his shoulder. Ah, no, he wouldn't do that, that was-- 

Ambulon's optics nearly popped from his skull as the doctor rested his leg on his shoulder.

Oh.

"What--"

"Superficial," Pharma interrupted a second time. His fingers stroked along the spot. Optics still hooded but glimmering. "No damage to the dermal plating. Just a scratch." Then his fingers moved down, tracing lines over Ambulon's inner thigh.

"Ph-Pharma," Ambulon gulped, "this is not a pr-proper examina--"

Ambulon gasped as Pharma suddenly took his hips, slid him down the desk, and then his pelvis crashed against the doctor's, and-- "More comfortable?" Pharma purred, and the combined heat, touch, and that damn _voice_ was enough for Ambulon's spark to thrash in its chamber. "Try talking now."

Ambulon wasn't sure if that was a joke or not. Nonetheless, he couldn't let this continue. Even though his entire chassis was warm and shivering-- "This is unprofessional," he said, firmly, sitting up. He pressed a hand to Pharma's chest, leg straining to draw back. "We can't do--"

"Do what?" Pharma shoved Ambulon back onto the desk with a small grunt. "We're off duty, by the way," he added. He smiled and tilted his head at the look of awe on Ambulon's face. "No... No, you're right. Talking is unnecessary. As surgeons, we are more"--and Ambulon gasped as Pharma's fingers brushed along one pelvic seam--"'hands on.'"

"We can't--we can't do this," Ambulon swallowed. A shiver ran down his backstrut as Pharma continued rubbing fingers between pelvic and thigh armor.

"We _can_ , actually," Pharma said, and shoved his fingers into the seam. Ambulon managed to choke down his cry, but it was only a matter of time and a little bit of skill before those expert fingers knew exactly what to touch, and how hard to push. Stroking inside the seam and the peripheral circuitry with small vibrations, and--

Ambulon groaned, only to curse quickly after. That sounded positively _nasty_ , and Pharma was giving him an amused look. "Don't," he pleaded, reaching for the doctor's hand, "stop this--"

"You want to help?" Pharma took Ambulon's wrist tightly. Ambulon froze and watched as his boss guided his hand over the second pelvic seam. "You're always eager to offer your services," he said, and continued massaging. With his free hand, he forced two of Ambulon's fingers into the second lining, earning a small noise. "Like this. Follow my lead." And Pharma helped direct those fingers, until Ambulon touched himself nearly as perfectly.

Ambulon's spark kept skipping beats. His chassis was heating up, and he could feel his processors spin dizzily. His mouth opened, just slightly, cycling warm, moist air. Said nothing, and soon he didn't need Pharma's guidance anymore. Pharma slowly let his hand go, easily working the first seam while watching Ambulon continue on his own. Fingers moving in and out in hard thrusts, knuckle deep, moving further down his pelvis, between his leg, and, amused, Pharma followed him down. Ambulon gasped and his thighs shivered, legs twitching between opening farther or closing together and ending this entire fiasco.

Pharma withdrew his hand, and Ambulon made a tiny displeased noise. His own fondling slowed. The doctor, however, did not draw away. Instead, he moved until his legs pushed against the table, and he bowed forward; his chassis just inches above Ambulon's. Their EM fields mingling; what was once shy, tendrils of Ambulon's energy slowly met Pharma's, and they knotted and tied and melted together, until their bodies sparked in small pops of energy and electricity.

"Do you wish for me to stop?" Pharma asked, voice thick and low. Ambulon winced and said nothing. Pharma smirked; he received his answer nonetheless. He lowered his gaze and looked down Ambulon's frame, at the few patches of exposed dark purple. Very carefully, he fixed his eyes to scan and study the almost invisible seam across the smaller Autobot's abdomen. Silently, Pharma drew his hand up Ambulon's groin, palm grazing along his stomach, and then pushed two of his fingers against the seam.

Ambulon widened his optics, almost went to bolt upright; Pharma quickly applied more pressure, forcing open the stubborn seam. Ambulon fell back with a clunk, optics shut tightly. "Is this what I think it is?" Pharma crooned, stroking the tear. The mech beneath him shivered and kept his optics closed. Pharma watched him a moment before drawing back and down, face hovering above the seam at his stroking fingers. "They did this, didn't they? The ones who experimented on you; tore you apart."

Ambulon winced. "It..." He weakly pawed at the doctor's hand, wanting to push it away. Couldn't find the energy, still bathing in Pharma's. It was dominating him quickly, so heavy, so commanding, pinning him down with an invisible force.

Pharma tilted his head and quirked a smile at the scar. "For a bunch of clumsy psychopaths," he said, then dragged a thumb over the seam, "they did a nice job." Dragged his tongue along its length, then, and Ambulon arched. "Nearly perfect incision. One of your tormentors had skill. Their craftsmanship could use some work, however."

"E-Enough."

Despite how demanding he sounded, Ambulon was hardly doing much in way of fighting him back. "I know there's some fight in you. I know you could overpower me; at least just enough to get me off of you," Pharma explained. Two fingers went back to probing the scar. "But you... You don't want that. In fact, one might say, you _like_ this." He broke through the shy seam, deeper into scarred and frayed circuitry.

Ambulon released a loud cry, but it was not entirely painful. He looked ashamed of himself, quickly slapping hands over his mouth. Yet he didn't push Pharma away. "Despite how much it hurts, you're very much enjoying this," Pharma continued teasing, all the while manipulating the open scar with those vibrating, skilled fingers. Ambulon's moan was muffled, his yellow optics cracking open, slightly, flickering. "Tell me," the white, winged mech hummed, fingers drawing back and forth, back and forth, "did you experience the same twisted pleasure as the scalpel pushed and tore through your plating?"

Anger swelled in Ambulon's energy field, and Pharma's spark reacted with a skip. " _Don't_ ," Ambulon growled, and sat up, pushing the doctor away. Got him to stop, at least, and it seemed the doctor was going to back off-- Ambulon gasped; Pharma grabbed his hand, pulled his arm hard enough to strain his shoulder joint. Then, the smaller Autobot was pressed against Pharma's hot chassis, and a hand dug sharply into his lower back, peeling away more paint, all the while shooting vibrations into his backstruct. Ambulon screeched and curled up, away from the hand, his chest grinding against hissing cockpit glass.

"The truth is, you _do_ like this," Pharma growled into the side of Ambulon's head, and his fingers dragged down Ambulon's body, back between his legs. "No, not what they did to you. Not the wounds they left behind. But the _control_." Digits stabbed into pelvic seaming, thrusting relentlessly, and Ambulon keened. "Is that why you agreed to the experiment? Is that why they chose you? Because you were so _eager_ to serve, because you wanted to be _used_ like a tool?"

"N-No...!"

"That's _exactly_ how it is," Pharma snarled. "You lived a meaningless life in the mines with the rest of your worthless kind, and it was only until you became one cog in a giant machine did you feel suddenly very much _alive_." He sneered over Ambulon's loud whimper. "And oh, how _wonderful_ that must have been - Tossed around like a toy; broken and sewn up again; you liked it all, because it meant you were _important_ , you were _worth_ something." He grabbed the back of Ambulon's head, tugged it back fiercely, until they were face to face. The smaller mech's optics were dim, his cheekplates hot, a line of coolant dribbling from the corner of his gaping, panting mouth. He looked completely defeated, almost a little scared. Pharma narrowed his optics, said in a voice so cold and void of emotion, "But then the reality of the situation caught up to you. The endorphins faded. And you got scared. So you ran away." He moved forward, lips so close to Ambulon's. "Just like a _coward_."

It took some time for Ambulon to find his voice beneath all the groans and whimpers. Pharma waited patiently, looking so calm, despite the way his fingers tore into seams, both hurting and pleasuring. Ambulon closed his optics; a few seconds later, opened, hooded, fatigued.

"Ph-Pharma," he croaked, and the doctor could feel shaky fingers grip his working hand. Ambulon cycled more air, moving forward, and his lips brushed against Pharma's as he murmured, "Use me. _Use. Me_." His tongue flicked the corner of Pharma's mouth. "Like a toy, if you want, do whatever, do whatever, just." He pushed against the hand, grinding hips desperately into its touch. "Drag me through the dirt as you do it. Make it hurt, make it hurt, please, _please_."

Pharma studied Ambulon's face. Searched his optics. Then smiled. "For once," he purred, and nipped the smaller mech's bottom lip, "I'm quite happy to oblige."

"And then he lied back, and Pharma went to unlatch his chestplates, and--"

First Aid raised a hand. "Stop," he interjected sharply. The bright green Autobot across the table blinked. "Just... Stop." Sighing, First Aid massaged circles in his temples.

The green Autobot frowned. "What's wrong?" he asked. He pursed his lips, annoyed. "Don't tell me you're gettin' all uncomfortable. I mean, you've been listenin' _this_ far."

"Yeah, I know, and I _regret every second of it_." First Aid sat up again. "I'm pretty sure that didn't happen, Radar Blip. In fact, I think you know that, too, but your CPU's stuck in the gutters. By the way, you got everything wrong about Ambulon's past."

Radar Blip groaned and threw up his hands. "Fine, y'caught me!" the nurse whined. He slouched in his chair, folded arms over his chest with a pout. "Look, sometimes it gets a little lonely up here, y'know? An' it's not like I can hit on any of our patients. Not like I'd even _want_ to." He grumbled. "So exc _uuuuu_ se me."

"Applying your fantasies to your superiors..." First Aid figuratively cocked a brow. "... Doesn't that seem a bit, well, creepy? Just a _little_ unsettling?"

"Fah!" Radar Blip snorted. "It's not like I'm pullin' all this outta my aft, y'know." He sat up, bending over the table and closer to his coworker. "I mean, c'mon. They totally got that whole 'sexual tension' thing goin' on. You see the way they look at each other? Always intense. And how else do you explain those new scratches after Ambulon left Pharma's office today? And the way he looked - all riled up, hot an' bothered."

"I don't think interfacing had anything to do with it," First Aid disagreed. "I don't even think they have interest in interfacing at all. Like, they're celibate. I think it's probably for the best." He shook his head. "Why am I even thinking about this? They aren't attracted to each other in the least! Pharma barely tolerates Ambulon, and Ambulon hardly cares for Pharma!"

"S'called a love-hate complex, my friend," Radar Blip snickered and winked. "I'm tellin' ya, one day - they're gonna just give in to all that pent up passion, an' we'll know it. They'll try to hide it, but we'll know. 'Cause we're doctors, and we don't miss _nothin'_." He sat back, accidentally knocking over his mug of energon. Stared at it then back to First Aid. "... So. Yeah."

First Aid studied Radar Blip. He was a good kid, yeah, but way too nosy. Big imagination, too, obviously. Pharma didn't want to accept the novice's internship, but he was currently understaffed and finally caved. Radar Blip at least proved to be useful; clumsy at times, but he was smart, knew what he was talking about. Caught on real quick during his six month stint at Delphi. Though only when it came to medicine. He knew next to nothing about Pharma and Ambulon. Besides, First Aid had examined the former Decepticon on a number of occasions, and he had no such abdominal scar.

Damn horny kids.

"Why don't you go check on Dustbite?" First Aid suggested. "His wound probably needs cleaning again."

Radar Blip blanched. "But he's so whiny and he _stinks_."

"Just go," First Aid sighed. "Or would you rather I put you on cleaning duty in the geriatric ward?"

Radar Blip jumped to his feet, saluted, and ran the hell out of the break room. First Aid watched him go, door slamming loudly behind him. He let his shoulders relax, and looked into his energon. On a few occasions during Radar Blip's radical, perverted story, First Aid wanted to stop and correct him. But... No.

Radar Blip, like Ambulon and Pharma, didn't need to know he had overheard the entire conversation between the two that late evening.

\---

Ambulon went about sorting through the supplies as Pharma picked through the cabinet of records and datapads. It was quiet, save the rustling of work.

"I think that's enough," Ambulon said, and stood, hoisting up a large box. "What do you think?" He peered over the supplies, to Pharma. Pharma turned, and nodded approvingly, before going back to work.

Ambulon then headed for the door, box large and nearly obscuring his vision. He grunted as his hip struck Pharma's desk, knocking over a few datapads with a clatter. As he tried to move around them, he stepped and tripped on one of the smooth 'pads. Gasping, he fell back, the box thrown in the air. The corner of the desk tore away a strip of fresh paint along the back of his leg.

Pharma whirled around. Saw Ambulon on the ground, then the box of supplies falling. With a curse, he jumped forward, smacked the box away. He landed on top of Ambulon, the two grunting. The box flew aside, turned over, spilling ropes of medical tubing on top of them. The two stayed quiet in this position, staring at each other, face to face.

Ambulon blinked. "... Thanks."

Pharma glowered. "You're welcome."

The winged mech then gathered off of Ambulon and on to his feet. Brushed off his chest and kicked away tubing. Ambulon stood a moment later, studying the ruined paint on the back of his leg. When he looked up, Pharma was still glaring. The smaller mech then coughed against his fist and nodded. "I'll... I'll come back later," he murmured, pointed to the door, then hastily made his way out of the office.

First Aid snorted, swishing the energon around in his cube. "Nothin' sexy about that."

END


End file.
